


Betrayal of the King

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, Dragonlord Merlin (Merlin), Gen, Good Morgana (Merlin), Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Kidnapping, Magic Revealed, Merlin's not having a great time, Minor Character Death, Protective Knights (Merlin), Torture, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24960322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Cenred wants to know what it would take for Merlin to betray his King.
Relationships: Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 584





	Betrayal of the King

**Author's Note:**

> Just a lil one-shot to make up for my absence :)

‘What would it take for you to betray your King?’

He tasted blood. It mixed with blood and the slightest hint of sweat, making it sour to swallow. He looked from the King, across to where Lancelot, Leon and Percival were slumped. In chains, not a good look for them, but luckily King Cenred had no intention of hurting them. He only had eyes for Merlin, who had been caught doing Magic just outside of the Camp. No doubt Arthur knew they were missing by now, had gone back to get Morgana and Gwaine and Elyan, possibly even Gwen, to try and figure out why they had been taken.

‘I would never.’ The words were simple. Merlin had been born to a destiny that to begin with was a burden, but had then become something he was more than willing to do. In fact, he adored it. Arthur was every inch the King he’d hoped, with Morgana by his side as Court Sorcerer, and Guinevere who would one-day be Queen.

‘Let me make a suggestion,’ the King began, moving closer to where Merlin was strung up. An iron collar hung heavy around his neck, digging into the skin enough that he could feel blood beading under it. Then there were the manacles around his wrists, his shirt-less torso and the trousers drenched in the same mixture that he could taste.

‘I don’t want to torture you. I really don’t. We could do this nice and simply. All the riches in my Kingdom, yours.’ He wouldn’t mind a pay rise from Arthur, he sent most of the money back to his Mother anyway, and any he had spare ended up with Gaius. They were the ones that looked after him, there was no point in keeping material wealth that he had no need for.

‘I’m alright, thanks.’ He joked, aware that the Knights looked pretty pale. Maybe they were fearful of torture, or worried for him. Merlin knew how this went, was more than willing to shed blood for the King of Camelot. Even if it was his own.

‘A girl, then. A Princess, to make you the next King of my lands.’ That was utterly ridiculous, he couldn’t become King. He didn’t want a girl, nor did he want a title, which was why he still hadn't told Arthur that he had Magic. That, and the fact that he was worried the King might feel betrayed.

‘I don’t want to be a King.’ Which was why he didn’t take the Druids up on their constant praise of him. Cenred made it to standing in front of him, away from the man responsible for torture. A hand came to his shoulder, resting over the burn.

‘You’ve been tortured before.’ It wasn’t a question, Merlin daring to look the King in the eye.

‘So nothing you do will be enough. It never is.’ He would not break, not for anyone.

‘Perform the spell, and I will let you walk free. Back to your King.’ But the spell would be too powerful, would end in Camelot’s destruction.

‘No.’ Cenred sighed, turned back to the man.

‘Try twenty lashes. Then wash him down.’ Merlin heard the muffled pleading from the Knights, but he blocked it out. Blocked everything out, because they now knew he had Magic. Well, Lancelot knew already, but Leon and Percival hadn't. Now, they would tell Arthur, and Merlin might have to leave Camelot.

It wasn’t that he didn’t feel the pain. He did, it burnt as his back was split open. After five he was unable to keep quiet, after ten he felt like the world was moving a lot more than it should have been. He slumped down in the chains, feet giving up under him and he kept his head hung. The fifteenth had his first scream, fire racing through his body at the burning.

By the twentieth, Merlin couldn’t see. He was unclipped from the chains, body dragged across to where he presumed he’d be washed. He was lifted with very little effort, and Merlin braced for the cold water that rushed over him.

Once, he’d told Gwaine about his scars. The Knight had joined him on a trip to visit Aithusa, the two of them pausing by the lake. Gwaine had wanted to go for a swim, which led to Merlin’s admittance that his body showed the efforts of keeping Arthur alive. He’d never seen Gwaine go quiet so quickly, but the Knight’s smile had returned, a promise that he would keep this secret. That Merlin had to be the bravest man he’d ever met.

He didn’t feel like it, not when hands held his shoulders below the water level. It was freezing, stung every nerve ending, and then there was the fact that he was being held under. Squeezing his eyes shut, he let the pin-prick sensations take over, while his limbs uselessly flailed around. He didn’t have that much strength without his Magic, and he was beginning to regret it. Maybe, if he made it out of this alive, he’d take Gwaine up on the offer of training.

**

‘What would it take, for you to betray your King?’ The question rang out following Merlin’s last scream, and the Warlock slowly raised his head, spat blood at the shoes of the King of Escetir.

‘Go to Hell.’ Not quite the same as the first response, but that had been an age ago. Merlin waited for a reply from the King, instead found Cenred to be eyeing him up curiously.

‘He will not break.’ Finally, Merlin thought, let his head tip back to stare at the ceiling.

‘Not with force against himself. Bring in our guest.’ That had Merlin’s attention, and he watched as Cenred’s lacky brought in a person. Covered in a hood, Merlin couldn’t see anything apart from the dress. A moment later the hood was yanked back, revealing dark hair that was steadily greying, and Merlin felt his heart shatter.

‘No…’

‘See, Merlin, we were playing nicely. Now if you don’t complete the spell, I’m going to have to take a more severe approach.’

She smiled at him. In the same way she always had, with the love that only his Mum could ever provide. From the moment he was born, she’d been telling him that his Magic would one day result in something terrible. He’d presumed that moment had passed, with Will or Freya, or Balinor.

Hunith was dragged to kneel on the stone, a dagger pressing to her neck, and Merlin lost all ability to think. This was his Mum, and as much as he wanted to protect Arthur…

‘Please.’ The word broke free before he could stop it, thrashing in his chains to try and get to her. Cenred rose an eyebrow, Merlin snarling as he pulled harder at the chains. The pain was awful, enough to tell him he was close to breaking bones if he wasn’t careful, but he didn’t know what to do.

To give the spell across to them would mean Arthur’s certain death. It was Dark Magic, probably suggested by Morgause, who had conveniently disappeared from Albion after she arrived in Escetir. If he pretended to give it across, then tried to get his Magic back, Cenred would kill them all.

‘The spell.’ Arthur, or his Mum? Merlin looked to her, begging her to help him, and Hunith just smiled. Her eyes glistened with tears, but the smile never faded, and Merlin knew what she would suggest. Something he wasn’t ever going to accept, so he turned to Cenred.

‘Anything. Anything but killing Arthur, I can’t… I won’t use my Magic against him.’ He might have been crying, it certainly felt like it, but he found himself uncaring of the fact. The Knights of Camelot behind the King were trying to look at him, to attract his attention, yet Merlin avoided them. He didn’t want them to see him like this.

Cenred sighed, looking across to his Guard.

‘Let the woman go.’ Hunith threw herself forwards to him, arms around his neck and Merlin finally felt safe. He tucked his head under her chin like he always did, breathed in the warm scent of pine and ash and a slight hint of the stew that she always cooked for him. He heard a sound from behind them, but he was focused on the fact that she was cradling his cheek, the brightest smile on her face.

Until her lips parted, ready to say his name, and red dribbled out from between them. It tracked down to her chin, dark eyes widening as she looked down, Merlin following her gaze.

He might have screamed. He wasn’t really sure what the sound was, but all he knew was that there was blood blooming through her dress, spreading rapidly as she slumped forwards onto him. Hands tried to reach for her, but Merlin couldn’t reach her, couldn’t hold on when he was chained. His Mum didn’t speak, hit the floor and toppled, and Merlin no longer found it in him to care.

**

Merlin found that he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Cenred had left the room, and Merlin was dealing with the fact that his dead Mother was curled up around his ankles. She’d fallen still a long time ago, about the same point that Merlin had stopped screaming, settling for quiet resignation.

The Warlock knew three things for definite, now that his heart had fallen quiet and his head was working quicker than it ever had before.

The first being that he was going to kill Cenred. He didn’t care that the man was a King, he was going to make him suffer for what he had just done.

The second was that the storm raging outside the Castle was probably because of him. He wasn’t sure how, but he could feel it in his bones, knew that his Magic was affecting the world around them.

The final thing that Merlin knew was that Morgana was getting closer, he could feel her Magic from a long way away. Every step she took, Merlin’s chances of escape got higher.

Until the window creaked open, and Merlin was met with a set of bright blue eyes, a curious snout that poked around. White scales that reflected the torchlight of the room, tiny wings folded in. Aithusa was getting larger, but he could still just about fit through the window, hitting the floor and looking from the Knights, to Hunith, to Merlin.

‘Aithusa.’ He croaked, the Dragon perking up and scampering over to him. He halted at Merlin’s Mother, nudged and waited for a response, while Merlin felt his eyes burn with tears once more.

‘Please, I… the collar. Can you burn it?’ Aithusa eyed up the chains, opting for the one that kept his feet bound first. It shattered with a breath of fire, just as the chains around his wrists melted. The fire didn’t touch him, and Merlin dropped down the moment he could.

When he carefully rolled her over, it was to find her eyes glassy. The wound in her stomach, the one that had been from a sword going straight through her back, it had bled a considerable amount. Most of it was on him, especially now that he’d knelt down to cradle her.

‘The collar?’ He questioned his hatchling, who didn’t respond, so Merlin had to conclude that Aithusa couldn’t break cold iron.

‘Find me a set of keys. Probably on one of the Guards, kill them if you have to.’ Aithusa was gone in a heartbeat, and Merlin looked back to his Mum.

How had they found her? Merlin had always been so careful not to involve her for fear someone might use her to get to him.

It was his fault. He’d used his Magic when he didn’t have to, and now she was lying on the stone when it should have been his.

Aithusa returned with a ring of keys. A hand as well, that Merlin presumed had been attached to one of the Guards, but he didn’t care. He snatched the hand, uncurled the keys and then moved it to his neck.

His Hatchling chirped, and Merlin swore under his breath when the Iron fell away. His skin may have been bleeding, but the moment his Magic rushed back under his skin, Merlin felt no pain. Outside, the sky rumbled dangerously, and Merlin felt his eyes flick to gold as he looked to the Knights of Camelot, then down to his Mum.

‘Get them out of here.’ The Dragon moved towards the Knights of Camelot, and Merlin scooped up his Mum, his muscles complaining at the fact they could barely carry him, let alone another.

Merlin didn’t wait for the Knights, he trusted them to be able to find Morgana, who had just entered the Castle.

**

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I warn you, starting a war…’ Cenred sat on his throne, lying to Arthur’s face as the King demanded the return of his manservant and the Knights of Camelot.

‘Starting a war? Is that not what you did, when you imprisoned Knights of Camelot and the King’s manservant?’ Morgana snarled, Gwaine reaching for his weapon while Elyan stayed at Arthur’s side. The four of them looked rather angry, Merlin thought from his hiding spot, watched as Aithusa went skidding into the throne room.

Arthur yelped, as did Cenred, both reaching for swords.

‘Aithusa?’ Gwaine bent down on instinct, the Dragon rushing to his side and curling around his ankles. From behind the Hatchling walked the three Knights of Camelot, and Merlin had never seen a group of angrier people.

‘Leon?’ Arthur was surprised when the First Knight snatched Elyan’s sword, he could tell. Merlin watched the Knight dare to raise it to the King of Escetir.

‘Leon!’ Arthur looked torn between shock and confusion, whereas Gwaine seemed to have realised that for Leon to be threatening a King, something bad had to have happened.

‘He tortured Merlin.’ The Warlock felt touched, he really did.

Stepping away from the water, he looked back to where his Mum was lying. Getting her out of the Castle had been a priority, and he could scry well enough to see through his Kin’s eyes. The lake wasn’t anything like the Lake of Avalon, but it was enough to know that she would be safe.

‘Go, Merlin. I’ll lay her to rest.’ The Lady of the Lake promised, a friend when he needed her most, repaying the debt of her freedom. The Warlock stepped back, watched as Freya reached out and lifted her gently from the sand.

‘C-careful.’ He managed, croaking on the word. Freya’s smile was watery, ironic really. She turned and walked back into the water, leaving Merlin with a broken heart and a King to kill.

**

When he walked into the throne room, there was quite a lot of shouting. Mostly from Arthur, and Cenred, a mixture of Knights on both sides ready to fight. Morgana’s eyes were golden, Merlin’s hatchling around her ankles and Gwaine looking murderous. When Cenred’s eyes drifted across to him, Merlin took satisfaction in the fear that crossed his face.

He didn’t bother trying to hide the marks, his torso was still bare. Most of it was covered in blood, a mixture of his own and that of his Mother’s, and the thought drove him forwards.

He ignored Arthur, didn’t bother listening to Gwaine’s curses that were spat out. He just moved towards Cenred carefully, watched as the Knights readied their weapons to attack him. When the first moved, he didn’t even bother with a spell.

His Magic burst out, sending the Knights flying back until they hit the wall. The sound was sickening, a mixture of breaking bones and heavy weight hitting, Merlin unsure whether they were alive or dead. Without speaking the spell, it was hard to control how fierce he wanted it to be. Evidently his Magic had some issues with the current situation.

‘What are you? You’re unlike any sorcerer I’ve ever met.’ Cenred whispered in shock. Merlin halted in his steps, felt his heart burn and tried to shove everything down.

He’d lost so many people.

Now he might lose Arthur.

And all of it would be for nothing, if Cenred was allowed to keep hurting his kind.

‘I’m not a Sorcerer. I’m a Warlock.’

‘The greatest one to ever walk the lands.’ Morgana added, appearing at his side with her eyes burning in hatred. Merlin was thankful that someone understood him, dropped his hand to link their fingers together in solidarity.

Cenred had tortured enough sorcerers to know what a Warlock was, apparently. And to recognise him.

‘Emrys.’ The fear was nice, Merlin appreciated it after everything.

‘You offered me a Crown, but I don’t need one. I’m already a King.’ With Morgana’s Magic to reassure him, Merlin focused on the spell and stretched his hand out, concentrating all his energy onto the building around. With the words muttered, the Castle walls began to crack, wind howling as it shoved at them.

‘We need to go.’ Morgana dropped his hand, turning to help the others run, and Merlin stayed staring at Cenred. Daring him to run from his throne.

‘Merlin…’

‘Go. I’ll be out in a moment.’

**

When the dust settled, Morgana watched the golden-eyed Warlock climb out from under the rubble. He coughed, rubbed at his neck in that awkward manner that he always did, looked around at the complete and utter devastation his spell had caused. She waited, could feel her brother tense up behind her, but Arthur wasn’t an idiot.

He would have done the same, if someone dared to harm his Mother. Morgana could see through the smile that Merlin offered, could basically watch his heart splinter. Still trying to be strong, even when he didn’t need to be.

It was okay. Now that they all knew, they would help him. Arthur would make him Court Sorcerer, as he should have always been, and Merlin would recover. The wounds would heal, the scars would fade, and maybe Merlin would one day feel like he didn’t have to be strong around them.

That he could just be Merlin, the same one that was currently being embraced by each of the Knights, had Gwaine’s cape around his shoulders and Aithusa at his heels, looking up hopefully at Arthur.

The King moved to Merlin’s side, the hug startling both the group and the Warlock, who hugged back after just a moment of hesitation.

Yes, he’d be quite fine.


End file.
